The Year
by Sydy
Summary: Lovino stopped reading and closed the journal; he stared at the wall, thinking back to the day that had changed everything. (Human Au)(Not very romantic but it is fluffy!)


**Hey, sorry it took so long. I've had school and I struggled writing this chapter because of all that happens in it. I'm trying to keep the characters as in character as possible. I don't want anyone to be OC unless it is absolutely necessary. Also I had been getting headaches from reading and stuff so now I have glasses.**

**I do not own Hetalia and if I did Spain would get more screen time.**

"Hey, I need your help," He said weakly.

"What's wrong? Do you have too many tomatoes? Can I have some?" the thickly accented voice on the other end questioned.

"No, um, Spain...this is about something else," America said in a serious tone.

"Oh," Spain said, "What do you need."

"It's about Romano," Spain flinched upon hearing his friends name.

"What did he do?" he asked afraid of what he would hear.

"He was totally questioning me about who shot Italy. Asking me all these weird questions. W-well he figured out it was... England and he... um... said he is going to kill him. He has a gun," America explained.

"I'll be there soon. Try and keep Romano from doing something stupid, please," Spain grabbed his keys and ran out the door as he hung up on America.

He was once again glad he had followed Romano.

Spain thought about the irony of the situation as he ran out of his hotel room and down the stairs two at a time. He jogged down the wet streets of London, water splashing up behind him, to England's house thankful for the short distance.

As he ran he thought back to the first time he had followed Romano somewhere. That was many years ago, back when Romano had decided to go home and Turkey had tried to kidnap him. He had followed him then because he was worried for the nation's safety. This time was different. This time he followed Romano not because he was worried for the Italian but more so because he was worried for the safety of whoever would be on the receiving end of the Italian's anger.

Spain jogged up the long walk way to England's front door and under the protection of the patio. The rain had picked up again and had quickly soaked through his coat. Spain looked up and saw the door had been knocked it and off it's hinges.

"Romano, please don't do this," Spain sighed before he entered the house.

"There you are!" America hollered from the base of the stairs. "Come on!"

Spain heard yelling from up stairs and quickly followed America into a large room.

What he saw only confirmed his suspicions.

Romano stood with his back to the door. He clutched a gun is his right hand and held it at his side. His left hand was clenched in a fist and he was screaming in rapid Italian. England was backed up to the wall. His face was red and tears stained his cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away and instead cradled his jaw in his hands where a dark bruise was forming.

Spain didn't wait for Romano to raise his arm before he tackled him. The gun clattered to the floor and slid under the bed. Romano struggled under the firm grip of the Spaniard.

_He had to get that gun! Why did the stupid Spaniard have to push him? Didn't he know what that English Bastard did? Why did he have to drop the gun when he did? Why didn't he shoot England sooner? Why? Why? Why? _Romano thought in anger as he gave one last shove at Spain and managed to roll over on top of him.

Romano jumped up and ran towards where he thought the gun was but was stopped short by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his waist.

"H-hey! Let go of me!" Romano was once again struggling for his freedom. And the gun.

"No! Romano, you need to calm down!" America shouted, struggling to maintain his hold on the enraged Italian.

"Calm down! How the heck can I calm down?" Romano screamed at America.

"Romano, you need to calm down. Shooting England won't solve anything," Spain pleaded.

"Well he seemed to think that shooting Veneziano would solve everything," Romano spat.

"And do you think he's happy about what he did? Look at him, Romano!" Spain pointed at England who still stood in the corner.

"Well if he felt even the smallest shred of guilt for what he did, he would have apologized," Romano retorted, venom dripping from every word.

"I did apologize. I apologized to Italy earlier today," England now stood mere feet from Romano, hands clenching the fabric of his pants.

"You may have apologized to Italy but what about me?" Romano's voice had dropped to just above a whisper and was eerily calm. He glared into England's emerald eyes not breaking eye contact as he talked. "What about me and Germany and Japan? We had to sit for four weeks waiting, not knowing if Veneziano would live or die. Don't you think we deserve an apology. You shot Vene but you nearly killed us."

With that Romano ripped himself from America's hold and stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door. A loud bang from the door being slammed was the only noise that announced his departure.

Silence followed.

Italy was sleeping peacefully on the couch while Germany worked on the paperwork that had accumulated over the past six weeks. It was quiet and calm a nice break from the craziness that had filled their lives for the past several weeks. The only way anyone would know there was someone home would be from Italy's soft breathing and the turning of pages in Germany's office and occasional phone calls from other nations wanting to check on Italy.

The front door was slammed open, banging against the wall and effectively breaking to the peace. Romano stormed into the room, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ve~ Fratello?" Italy asked, sitting up on the couch.

"Why didn't you tell me it was that Scone- eating Idiota that shot you?" Romano questioned loudly.

"Ve~ Romano, I can explain," Italy's voice trembled.

"I don't want to hear any excuses!"

"What's going on down here?" Germany asked running down the stairs.

"England shot Veneziano and he didn't tell us," Romano's voice dropped dangerously low as he pointed an accusing finger at Italy.

"What?" Germany asked, "Italy is this true?"

Italy nodded in defeat.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Romano accentuated each word individually.

"Ve~ I'm sorry! I- I didn't want anyone to hurt him," Italy cried.

"He shot you Veneziano! And you're trying to protect him?" hot angry tears pricked at Romano's eyes as he yelled at his brother.

Germany silently watched the two brothers argue before one thought dawned on him.

"Italy… what were you and England talking about at the market?" Germany tentatively asked, praying England wasn't going to try and hurt him again.

"He- he wa-"

"What the hell is going on?" Prussia sauntered into the room.

Germany sighed in exasperation, "Bruder, what do you want?"

"Well, I heard yelling and thought the awesome me should find out what the hell is going on."

"You know what? I don't even care anymore! Go ahead and defend England. See if I care!" Romano seethed in anger.

"Fratello," Italy pleaded, tears trailed down his pink cheeks and he shook in fear.

"No! I'm done!" Romano turned on his heel and marched out of the house once again slamming the door behind him.

**I hope you enjoyed this. I'll try and update the next chapter sooner but I might not be able to. Let me know what you think please. I love reading reviews and getting back any kind of feedback. **


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